Sunday, January 24, 2010

I stood at the edge of the bluff in front of the small log cabin. Even though I have seen the northern lights illuminate the sky an uncountable number of times in my life, I am still mesmerized by the silent beauty of every display. Each time it's a different performance; sometimes turning into an explosion of colors shooting quickly across the sky, and other times a shy green streak that dimly fades away into the starlight.

On this night I remained deathly still as I attempted to visually contemplate which direction and with what intensity the next wave of light would pursue. The green arc eventually faded and the show was over. But I remained standing at my perch on the bluff, a bit disappointed that there was no grand finale. I was suddenly aware of the warm glow emanating from the cabin window, the swirl of smoke rising from the chimney, and the muffled laughter of my friends inside. I was overwhelmingly happy to be here to celebrate the beginning of another year in my life...

This was a quick weekend trip into the White Mountains. Six of us traveled by skis, and one on a bike with fatty tires. We propelled ourselves 30 miles out to the Caribou Bluff cabin and then an additional 30+ miles back to the road.

This was an especially special trip. It has been nearly a year since Dea received her kidney transplant. After many months of building up her endurance, she was able to join us on this this vigorous ski traverse. Not too long ago, I could only fondly imagine a time when I could see Dea out enjoying a dialysis-free lifestyle. Now it's become a reality.